Comanche Cowboy (The Durango Family) (14 page)

Rocky Mountain locust! Grasshoppers!
Millions of them in a gigantic cloud whirling down around her. Cayenne screamed in terror as they flew in her face, down her shirt, clung to her clothes. She was covered with the crawling, flying things.

She glanced over at Maverick as she shuddered and clawed at herself, trying to get the insects off her. He, too, slapped at his face, trying to shake them from his clothes while the three horses neighed and plunged in confusion and terror.

Cayenne screamed again as she struggled to rein in the terrified horse. The grasshoppers were everywhere now, crawling on her clothes, down the neck of her shirt, hopping across the grass. The ground seethed and writhed with them as the insects landed, and in moments, they were as deep as the horses’ fetlocks. The grass turned black under the millions of crawling grasshoppers. The buzz of their wings, of the chewing jaws attacking the vegetation, drowned out any shouts.

It was worse than her most horrible nightmare to have the grasshoppers covering her, crawling down her shirt, her arms. She shuddered, raking at them wildly while her horse neighed and stamped. The sky turned black as another cloud of them moved in. The ground seemed a wiggling, living thing as the insects spread across the prairie for miles, chewing greedily at the grass.

She couldn’t stand any more! She had to escape! Maverick shouted to her, gesturing, but her fright overwhelmed her thinking. She had to get away from these millions of winged, crawling monsters!
The river! If she could ride her horse down into the water!

She gestured that direction and Maverick shook his head, shouting something. Cayenne was too terrified to think clearly. She had to escape! Unmindful of the packhorse tied to her mare, she took off at a dead gallop toward the Cimarron. Behind her she heard Maverick shout, start after her.
Good! He’d understood her plan, was coming along!

In blind panic, she galloped toward the river in the pale pink dusk. Grasshoppers crawled over her clothes and the grass teemed with them. Strawberry crushed them under her hooves as she loped. Cayenne heard them pop beneath the mare’s hooves, smelled the scent of the crushed, mangled insects. All she could think of was reaching the water that seemed so far up ahead. If she could ride down into the river, she’d be safe, wash them off. Leading the packhorse, she galloped onto the river bank sand.

She saw the sign, read the words, but their meaning didn’t register as she plunged the mare across the crusted sand toward the tepid water. And when the words registered, it was already too late.

“WATCH OUT!! 125 MILES TO FT. SILL!! 3 FEET TO HELL!!” the weather-beaten sign read, but the other words were too dim and she was too terrified to care. All she could think of was riding even deeper, leading the packhorse behind her. Maverick yelled a warning behind her. “No! Cayenne! Cayenne! No! Stop ! ”

But she ignored him, feeling only relief that the grasshoppers were washing away, swimming for their lives as she rode the mare deeper into the waters of the Cimarron. She reined up, turning back to gesture Maverick into the water.

Why was his face so anguished ? Why did he reach for his lariat?
“Cayenne! My God! I’ll get you out!”

Out? She didn’t want out.
She wanted to ride even deeper so that the muddy water washed the creeping insects from her skin. But his agonized expression made her start back toward the shore. Was it her imagination that the sand ahead of her shook like jelly? Why on earth was he screaming at her? And then the mare hesitated, stumbled, and began to sink. Only as the mare foundered and the packhorse behind her in the water whinnied in terror did she understand the sign, the horror on Maverick’s face.

“Quicksand!” she shrieked. “Oh, God! Quicksand!”

Even the grasshoppers held no more fright for her now . as she felt the sand give way beneath the strawberry roan.

“Maverick! Help!”

“Hang on, baby!”

He brushed the grasshoppers off his shirt, moving gingerly onto the sand shore and eyeing it carefully. “I’ll try to rope you, Reb! Let that packhorse go!”

“No!” she shouted back, hanging onto the lead rope grimly. “No! We need the supplies! We need—”

“Remind me to spank your butt later for arguing with me! ” he shouted as he roped her mare, but she heard the tension in his voice, knew he was scared for her.

Strawberry whinnied and foundered as Maverick tightened the rope.

“Hang on, horse!” he yelled. “Dust Devil’ll do the best he can! Cayenne, let go of that packhorse ! You’ll have to let it drown!”

The packhorse foundered, sinking deeper into the sand and rolling its eyes in panic.

“No,” Cayenne screamed. “I won’t leave the poor thing!” pay

He looked exasperated but said no more as he tightened the rope on the mare’s neck, reining the big stallion backward.

Strawberry sank slowly and whinnied in terror as Maverick backed his horse, tightening the lariat.

Cayenne thought suddenly. “She’d have a better chance without my weight!” And she slid off even as Maverick protested.

“No, Cayenne! By damn! Stay with her! The current’ll get you!”

She wasn’t going to let two horses drown because of her poor judgment,
she thought stubbornly, working her way through the water back to the foundering, terrified packhorse.

“Cayenne! Dammit! Hang onto the mare’s tail! I’ll save the packhorse!”

She was afraid now, more afraid than she’d ever been in her life as the quicksand sucked at her feet and legs, pulling her and the horses still deeper. Images flashed through her mind of every horrible story she’d ever heard about people and animals dragged under, slowly drowned in quicksand.

“Here, baby, free that rope from the horse and put it around your waist! You’ll have to let the horses go!”

“No! I won’t let them drown! Save Strawberry!”

Maverick swore terrible oaths and his hands shook as he reined the big gray backward. “Hang onto her tail,” he ordered again. “I’ll get her out, then go for the packhorse myself!”

Cayenne needed no further urging, so great was her terror. Strawberry was almost chest-deep in the sand now as she struggled and only went deeper. Behind them, the packhorse plunged frantically, trying to get a footing in the bottomless ooze as it sank slowly.

Cayenne hung onto the mare’s tail as Maverick backed Dust Devil, tightening the rope. The tepid current pulled at her and she got a mouthful of muddy water as she gasped and fought to hang onto Strawberry’s tail. Drowned grasshoppers floated on the river’s brown surface while the others on the prairie chewed their way through every bit of vegetation.

“Oh, Maverick, hurry!”

He backed the stallion and the rope tightened on the mare’s neck. She clung to Strawberry’s tail and watched him.
Suppose the rope snapped? Suppose he broke the mare’s neck trying to get her out?
But there was no other answer.

The big gray horse backed up slowly, expertly as any cow pony used to working cattle would. Maverick talked to the stud, encouraged him. “That’s it, boy! Keep backing! Steady now!”

Strawberry whinnied as if she knew the pair was trying to help her. Behind them the packhorse foundered still deeper. The current and the sand pulled at Cayenne’s legs as if determined to take her under, suffocate her slowly in the quicksand. Was there a more horrible, slow death than that? Cayenne couldn’t think of one as she put her faith in the half-breed and his gray stallion. She even prayed a little as Maverick backed his horse.

For a long moment, the lariat stretched so tautly she was certain it would break and knew he had only one. If it broke, she and the horses would surely drown, but she pushed that possibility from her mind. She smelled the brown water washing past her face and it smelled like mud and sudden death. Cayenne’s head went under as the mare thrashed, and she choked and coughed on the dirty water. And then Maverick backed up another step and the line went so taunt, it vibrated.

“Cayenne, it’s no use! ” he yelled. “I can’t budge her! I’m gonna let her go, toss the rope to you!”

Even in her terror, she was adamant. “My stars! You’d better not! Don’t you dare let my horse drown! ”

He shrugged, muttering something about “stubborn Rebel,” and backed the stallion one more step while the mare choked and gasped.

For a long, heart-stopping minute, Cayenne thought the rope might break or he’d strangle the roan. But just as she’d almost despaired, the mare seemed to move a little, thrashing wildly.

Maverick warned, “Watch out for her feet; she’ll kick you from here to Sunday!”

Cayenne nodded, sliding around to the mare’s side as Maverick urged his stallion back. Then with a mighty lunge and a great sucking sound, the quicksand let go its greedy grasp of the mare and Maverick pulled her to safety and Cayenne along with her.

The mare stood dripping water as Maverick dismounted, ran over, and caught Cayenne as she fell.

She threw her arms around his neck, unmindful that her wet body soaked his clothes. “I was such a fool!”

“It’s okay, baby.” He held her tightly against the haven of his virile chest as he brushed a wet curl from her eyes. “It’s okay now!”

The grasshoppers had consumed every bit of vegetation. Now they gathered in a great cloud and flew off, leaving thousands of dead, crushed insects behind.

Cayenne turned back toward the river where the packhorse struggled. “Maverick—”

“Okay, dammit, okay!” He loosed the rope from the mare’s neck and led his stallion closer to the water’s edge, carefully choosing his footing. Expertly he roped the struggling gelding as it sank still deeper.

He studied the situation and turned to Cayenne. “Baby, to save that horse, I’m gonna have to cut the packs loose. . . . ”

“Maverick, no!” She ran over and grabbed his arm. “Don’t go in that water! Suppose something went wrong! You might drown I Can’t you just pull it out like you did Strawberry?”

Maverick shook her hand off reluctantly. “I’ll never get it out with those packs weighing it down. I’ve got to swim out there and cut them loose!”

She looked from him to the struggling horse. He was right, there was no alternative. But once he was in the water, it would be her responsibility to back the stallion and try to pull Maverick and the packhorse out. “What do you want me to do?” she asked coolly.

“That’s my girl!” he patted her cheek. “Can you back a horse? Have you ever worked cattle?”

“Of course, I was raised on a ranch! I’ve had to do a lot of the work around the place in the past eight months. . . .”

“Then I’m counting on you, Reb.” He gave her a disarming grin. “Just remember, Dust Devil mounts from the right, Injun style!”

She swung up in the saddle as Maverick picked his way across the sand gingerly. The rivers of the Indian Territory were notorious for treacherous quicksand, she remembered too late as she watched him pick his footing. He’d remembered and had been trying to warn her when she plunged into the water in blind panic. Here and there, the sandy crust trembled like jelly and he avoided those areas as he moved toward the struggling horse.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Maverick hip-deep in the brown water, moving toward the sinking horse. He turned to shout over his shoulder, “I’ll cut the packs loose. . . . ”

“What’ll we do for food without them? ” she shouted.

“We’ll worry about that later! I’ve got to try to get it on its side. Spread out on a larger surface area, it’ll sink slower.”

She sat the stallion, wet, miserable, and scared for Maverick’s safety as she watched him moving around the quicksand to the struggling horse. He cut the packs loose and they bobbed only an instant in the water before the deadly sand sucked them under forever. The horse seemed to know the humans were trying to help because he nickered frantically.

“Whoa boy! I’ll save you!” Maverick kept up a soothing patter as he took his knife and dug sand from under the gelding until he got it off its feet, sprawled on its side in heaving exhaustion.

“Okay, baby,” he shouted as he moved around behind the prone horse. “It’s all up to you and Dust Devil now! Back up and see if you can free him!”

Very slowly Cayenne urged the stallion back. Dust Devil seemed to know his master’s life depended on him. He backed carefully, tightening the lariat.

The packhorse whinnied and struggled, but it was too weak from exertion to free itself. Maverick moved around behind it, trying to free its rear legs.

“Maverick, be careful!” she shouted in alarm. “You’ll get kicked!”

“Keep backing, Cee Cee !”

The rope tightened, trembling as Dust Devil took up the slack. Nothing happened. Cayenne despaired, fearing for Maverick out in the water. Her fingers clenched on the reins as she urged the gray. She had a sudden image of Maverick and the packhorse sinking forever into the bottomless quagmire.

Well, she wouldn’t let him die,
she told herself as she tried backing the stallion again. And it wasn’t because he meant anything to her personally. No, of course not. It was the humane thing; it was what Papa would have done.

Desperately, she pulled back on the reins, arching the stallion’s neck as she urged him to retreat, to put even more tension on the lariat. If it broke, there’d be nothing she could do but watch helplessly as Maverick and the luckless gelding sank forever in the deadly sand.

“Oh, Maverick, I—I’m so afraid it’ll break!

“Don’t go soft on me now, Rebel,” he scolded, waving her backward. “That’s the chance I’ve got to take!”

It was the chance she had to take, too,
she realized, admitting to herself how very much this man meant to her.

She tightened the lariat even more and the giant stallion put all his strength into pulling. “Back up, boy,” she urged, every muscle tense as she watched the drama before her. “Oh, Dust Devil! You’ve got to do it!”

Then the big gray seemed to realize that the life of the man he loved, whom he’d served faithfully since his young colt days, was about to be forfeited. The horse snorted, and shook his head, and leaned almost down on his haunches as he pulled.